Cold
by Mr.Crouch'sDaughter
Summary: Every separation leaves us in sadness. Even more if our relationship is finished by other people. Will Hermione Granger be able to survive the loss of her love, Minerva McGonnagall? Warning: F/F Slash! Don't read if you don't like!


_Disclaimer:_ All characters belong to Joanne K. Rowling, who will surely never use the characters in the way I do – and maybe it's better that way, 'cuz Harry Potter is still a book for children and I am just a little fanfiction writer with a dirty fantasy ;-).

_Story: _After Hermione Granger's and Minerva McGonnagall's secret relationship is discovered and the two of them are separated, Hermione thinks about the woman she loves so much.

_Genre:_ Femmeslash, Angst, Romance

_Rating: _R

_Warning: _This is a Femmeslash story, including love between two women and love between a student (16) and a teacher (ca.70). If this is not your cup of tea, leave, please.

_Cold_

I have always known what they would say if they found out.

But, of course, this didn't make it easier for me to look in their disgusted faces. To read their minds and thoughts. And to listen to their accusations.

Surprisingly, it was dear Harry who shouted first, not Ron. Not the boy who told me he was in love with me just two weeks ago and had been in love with me for ages. 

No, famous Harry Potter, boy who lived, first declared how pervert we were, how absolutely disgusting we were.

Ron's statement followed after the frist shock was over and it was harder to. Against Harry, his voice was very calm and serious, as he told us we were the dirtiest scum he had ever met.

Incomprehension. Misunderstanding.

They couldn't accept it, Dumbledore couldn't, the other teachers couldn't and my parents went simply wild.

Dumbledore suspended you, my parents took me home and **_locked_**me in my room.

They just open the door if I have to go to the toilet or to give me food.

All my magical things are hidden. I suppose – no, I know – they are afraid I could send you a letter, or contact you in another way.

Maybe they think we could practise owl post sex – like telephone sex or something like that. Something dirty, in any case.

But our sex was never dirty. It was the most wonderful experience I was ever allowed to make. I remember the way you kissed me almost shyly, how your lips touched mine tenderly, how you played with my tongue...

I still can feel your hands caressing my face and going down to my breasts and even deeper, your fingers and tongue slipping inside my vagina, until I lost control and let you lead me to climax. 

It ashames me, but I must confess, I was nervous when I first took off your clothes. I didn't know what I would see. It is a fact, if you were a muggle, you could be my grandmother.

But what I forgot – and I have to beg your pardon – is, that you are a wizard and your age is not the same.

So is your body. Your flesh is till hard, your breasts don't look different than my mothers.

I adore your breasts. I always kissed every part of it, before I went down. My fingers traced around your nipples, my tongues sucked on them. And you wanted me to do that exactly. Looking cold and untouchable in class, I soon realised how great your desire was and how easy it was to make you melt in my hands. 

And how easy I melt in your hands.

But memories are a bad replacement, even more, they hurt me. It is so painful to remember what I had, but will never have again. And there is no one I can talk to, for the only one who ever listened to me were you. There is no joy, no luck, no gladness in my life anymore, it is just cold. And I am cold, too. It's a coldness who burns you from within and it almost reached my heart.

But before it gains, before my love to you ends in depression and sadness, I will do something. I cannot accept that I should give up my feelings just because everyone arounds me wants it.

And I want you to understand me.

Minerva, I will not loose you, or your love. I cannot fight the persons that separated us, but I can fight this cold feeling in my body. 

It is so easy. My parents forgot that even human things can be dangerous, like this little razor blade in my hand. 

I hold it to my neck, I feel its sharpness and the first blood drops dropping onto my bed.

But I am still smiling. I am still loving you. I always will.

Maybe I cannot fight the people and maybe I cannot fight the law. But I can fight my life.

And I know I will win.

The end

Mister Crouch's Daughter


End file.
